My mind keeps going back to the moment in the room of the Blessed Beauty, Baha'u'llah in the Mansion of Bahji, when I responded to an internal suggestion that I did not belong there, and left.
When I was six we had an actual set of plates, Fiesta Ware as I know it now. I loved the assortment of bright colors. One day I was given the task of carrying the stack of plates from the dining room to the kitchen. There were seven in the family so it was probably seven plates. Heavy, but far from impossible. I remember having the thought of how terrible it would be if I dropped the plates, and then, before I knew it, I had dropped them, and it was terrible and I cried. Not because there was anger and violence--I guess my parents knew this was an accident--but because I loved those plates and they were no more. Children not having much in the way of impulse control.
Now, sometimes at night when I am driving and weary, I have this thought of how terrible it would be to drive off the road and crash, and with my inventive imagination, I can picture the havoc pretty clearly. This thought has become persistent in recurring [is this what dogs do when they reproduce? Recurring?]
So, not all thoughts and impulses are good ones.
The other day I treated myself to a pedicure for the first time, mostly because the extra fat around my middle has made it extremely difficult to trim my toenails properly. It was a wonderful experience, in spite of wondering what was going to happen next, all except for a moment when I looked down at my ankles with pitting edema and felt as if my body has been hijacked by a malevolent force.
It has.
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1 comment:
Oh, my beautiful and worthy friend! Would that you knew your true value. You and I have this in common, having been taught from infancy the lie that we "do not belong". Some day, before we leave this world, I hope we both recognize the truth, and are able to rejoice in our belongingness.
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